Path of Shadows
by crimeson-plasma
Summary: For Bilbo assassination is like an art, one that needs to be perfected. Bonds with the victim, emotion and guilt are only an obstacle in the way of completing the contract. Love is like a noose around one's neck, and as such his live is a lonely one. However, will he manage to follow his creed and kill his new contract: Thorin Oakenshield? Thilbo, Bagginshield, Thorin/Bilbo.
1. Chapter 1

I have been wanting to write this fanfic for quite some days now, and I finally got to do it. It is an AU (Smaug never attacked) but everything will be explained in the fanfic. Before anything else, a million thanks to **nightwrighter **for betaing this. Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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My fingers gently brushed, no, caressed the dark wood of the bow that I firmly held in my hands as I waited for the moment, the perfect moment, to execute and to bring to an end days not only of careful planning but also of travelling and preparing. Days during which I had had to remain as hidden as I always had to be. It was essential to do so, or else the careful plan that I had drawn to ensure the success of what I had been contracted to do would be put in jeopardy. Jeopardy, failure to deliver what I had promised, would only hurt me in return by hindering the aims that had led me to accept the contract in the first place. It would only hurt the things that had led me to sell my services as some type of mercenary or assassin for hire, the things that were closest to my heart, the people closest to me.

The air was moist around me, giving me a subtle warning of the rain that would surely come in a few hours' time at most. It was important to finish now that the conditions were perfect and that rain wouldn't ruin everything. Rain would only damage the fire. I took a deep breath in as I kept concentration on my surroundings at a maximum. I was currently standing on top of the roof of a house in the town of Bree, one that was close enough to my target and yet at the perfect position to let me not be recognised. I was hunching, hiding in the shadows completely unseen below the dark cloak that covered my whole body, hid my face and distorted my appearance with the shadows it created. It was as clean as it could be, unlike the clothes that I normally wore. I took a step sideways, my high dark boots, made of the same material as the light armour that I wore beneath my dark robes, making no sound whatsoever as I moved across the roof's tiles. I was offered the highest degree of protection by it whilst not hindering my stealth, something that was highly important for someone of my skills and job.

The streets and alleyways below me were deserted, mainly due to the darkness that night brought and the cold weather of winter. It was a time when people were huddled beneath their covers with their families or drinking with their friends, not taking casual strolls through dark alleyways or streets. Dirt and filth accumulated throughout their entire length, creating an almost sickly atmosphere that stole away most of the beauty of the place. It made it apparent for a hobbit like me that this was a city where humans lived. I couldn't see many things that grow. Everything was completely silent. Not even the footsteps of a human or a traveller of another race could heard throughout the streets, nor the cries of a child or two that were completely alone or of people who had lost their homes due to some reason or other. It was a surprising thing, one that, of course, just followed and helped to ensure the success of the plan.

I reached for a wooden arrow from the quiver that was hanging from my back, and carefully lit it before I placed it on my large bow and tensed its string. It was almost time, the moment was almost here. I quickly spotted the target; the one that I had ensured that would be there at this very moment: a big barrel of alcohol right beside the main door of the inn. I tensed the bow's string further and aimed carefully. I didn't have the keen eyes of the elves, but I didn't exactly shoot badly. Soon I was sure, no, certain that this arrow would hit the target. I held the bow strongly in my other hand as I quickly made sure that no one could see me, just in case, and then prepared to let go. It was of utmost importance that I succeeded in this and that I completed the task that had been asked of me.

I forced my face to remain stoic as I prepared to let go of the flaming arrow, masking the few emotions that I let myself feel. I had learnt long ago, when I had first started offering my services as a mercenary, that these could only hinder the end result and haunt me. It was because of this that I had decided to try and maintain them as far from my mind and heart as possible when doing a job. It wasn't that I was emotionless, but that I recognised the importance of completing the jobs that I was set. Feelings of guilt would be left for after the job had been completed.

"Now," I quickly thought. I maintained the firm grip over my bow as I finally let go of the arrow, which left the bow with a soft 'twang', hissing through the air as it went directly towards the-

No, this is not right. This is not where the story starts, where the events that I am about to tell, that led me to be at the very centre of a political conspiracy that could and did alter everything began. This is certainly not where my story starts, and it just ignores the reason why I was forced into offering my services as some kind of mercenary. The terrible events that had led me to be here, preparing to set alight and burn to the ground The Prancing Pony. This wasn't to ensure the death of someone this time, far better methods could be used to ensure the demise of someone, after all, but to send a message that my contractor wanted to be sent to the owner of the biggest and most popular inn of Bree.

The real story does not start here but when I was barely a child by hobbit standards. It starts at the time that Bungo Baggins first became infected with the terrible disease that had ultimately ended his life, one that no doctor had been able to identify correctly. Cure after cure had been tried, each worse than the one before it and also more painful and costly. This had lasted a year until my father had ultimately died, a year during which the position of my family had changed drastically. Yes, this is where the story really starts.

The dark disease that had taken away the life of my father has remained unidentified until this very day by everyone. It had been a strange disease, one that had infected many hobbits at the time and killed many of the infected as well. At first it had only seemed like an innocent cold, but soon sharp pains and boils had come, along with the terrible smell that these brought upon exploding. My father had been one of the last infected alive, but no one could avoid the ultimate fate reserved for them by the disease. All of our riches had been spent on trying to cure the disease. The gold had been the first to go, and it had soon been followed by expensive furniture and the other things that had allowed us to live a comfortable life. Even my mother's treasured dinner service collection hadn't been spared, and before we knew it we were up to our necks in debt as we struggled to find the cure that would save my weakened father from the terrible disease.

All of these cures, however, had no effect and didn't stop the unavoidable consequence of the disease, and before I even realised it I was forced to say a final goodbye to my father. That final moment occurred during a cold and not exactly nice day, and those who remember that day, the day that Bungo Baggins, my father, died, swear that during his last moments a bright purple flash of light was seen in the sky. It was a flash of light that I never got to see, distressed as I was, but that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. It still does, after all.

Life from that point onwards was not easy. My father was gone, but the people that we owed money to weren't. Soon even the silver knives and forks were forced to be sold as the number of friends of our family was reduced to a select few. No new clothes could be afforded, and it wasn't long until all that we could wear were or were close to being rags. My mother and I were eventually forced out of our very own home, later acquired by the Sackville_-_Baggins. We were forced to enter the struggle for life that many people faced, and we were forced to live in the only possible places that we could afford on the outskirts and worst areas of The Shire, far too damp, wet and muddy to be good living conditions.

Job after job had to be taken by me and my mother, and while we still had a few friends that helped us and gave us money when needed, even these people kept getting fewer and fewer. Despair became a usual thing for me to feel. I learnt to fight and be strong to achieve survival in the cruel world that I had suddenly found myself in whilst still being a child, later forced to resort to stealing after realising that the many and yet badly paid jobs that both my mother and I did weren't enough to keep us both alive and that she could be forced to worse things for a living for survival. It wasn't long before I learnt to put my natural hobbit stealth into use and was forced to lie to my very mother about the origin of certain things, food and money that I acquired. She had been through a lot after all; she didn't need to be worried any more than she already was. She still didn't, my opinion in this matter remains the same until now.

Before I knew it, two years after the death of my father, I had managed to learn to steal almost undetected. I was almost like a shadow of sorts, with quick hands and able to get hold of any object or quantity of coins that I wanted. It was around that time that I got in contact with a group of hobbits and humans that could have constituted a 'guild' of thieves. I sold them the objects and things that I robbed and got money in return, money that I put into good use by buying food and other essential things for my mother and me. I also decided to spend some of that money that I 'earned' through stealing into paying for being taught how to wield weapons. Soon I was being taught how to use daggers, swords, bows, crossbows, maces, axes and many other weapons by other guild members that did other sorts of 'jobs'. It took time, but necessity forced me to learn fast.

It was around that time, after a particularly bad and rainy year, that my mother got sick with another disease, one different from the one that my father had contracted but that was no less deadly. Soon, all the profit that I had managed to start making was being spent on cures, medicines and doctors. It apparently had appeared due to the bad living conditions that we were in, but it could be cured and death be prevented with the right treatment. Soon all my earnings were being spent on the not exactly cheap medicine that was necessary to ensure the survival of my mother, and the little food that I could afford to buy after getting the medicines went mainly to her, as was natural. I didn't want to lose another parent. I really didn't. She was, and still is, the most important person in my world, my only family, and I didn't want to feel the grief that I had felt when my father died. It thanks to this that I first discovered about the possibility of selling my abilities in exchange for money.

I still frequently and commonly stole, but soon I became some sort of mercenary. I was helped by a hobbit that I knew to get my first 'job' or 'contract': to rob an important family inheritance from one of the richest families in the Shire. It was thankfully successful, despite the ever present danger of being detained, and soon after that more jobs were offered to me, each scaling in importance as my abilities started becoming known in the underground world. Beating people up and destroying property of a rival merchant of my contractor became a usual and ordinary thing. Well, as ordinary as it could possibly get for someone like me, who had only been forced to give away all comfort in exchange for survival.

I soon learnt that being detached from what was being done was the key to success, but nothing made me learn this lesson more than my first murder contract. I had to kill a hobbit, a father, who had not paid any of his debts in too long, sparking the drastic measures that the people that he owed money to took. The memories of his blood dripping onto the floor would chase me for the rest of my life, as would the memories of his pleading and crying. I had cried after doing the deed. How could I have not? I had taken someone's life away, robbed him from his family and loved ones. Grief had taken hold of my heart and made me almost want to end my own life, to hand myself in to justice and accept my well-deserved punishment, death, for the atrocity that I had done. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of my innocent mother perishing, and so what had initially been a lone assassination and murder soon became many more, too many to count by now.

It was like this, with the murder contracts, that I learnt that life was meaningless. It was nothing of value. We all ended up the same way, and nothing could change that. Bonds with the victim and emotion and guilt were only an obstacle in the way of completing the contract. Love was like a noose around one's neck, one that could be used to end my life or that of my mother. It could only do harm. Becoming an assassin changed me, it made me even more closed, it made me keep to myself and avoid tying myself to anyone other than my sick mother. If I had any ties my mother could die because of it. I was a wanted man after all. Love was weakness, and weakness would make me fail to complete my contracts. Weakness would get me, but most importantly my mother, killed. Nothing mattered except completing the contract. I had no friends, just targets, and from the moment I accepted a contract I knew that the target was already a dead person. I guaranteed it after all. It didn't take long to learn the keys to success, but it took longer to accept these unavoidable truths. Assassination was an art, one that I had to master.

Years went by in this way, and my name, my false one rather, soon became known. I received more and more contracts, all about grave deeds that needed to be committed. I became an artist in the art of killing, and strove to get better in my dominance of weapons and poison every day. Death was all around me, but that meant nothing. I was an assassin, a mercenary, a killer. It was my job, one that I had to do to ensure the survival of my mother.

I blinked just once and continued staring at the inn that was quickly catching fire, wearing my face like a mask that hid everything that I was feeling. Screams were heard from the inside, but most people almost immediately ran out of the burning building, scared. My job was completed, and this meant that I would be able to survive another month. I backed into the shadows, making myself one of them as I sheathed my bow. It was time to return home. I smiled; I hadn't been there in days and I would see the only remaining member of my family again.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is chapter two! I initially wanted this to be part of chapter one, but since it already was long as it was I decided to instead split it in two (so things will finally get started). This also turned out to be an awful lot longer than what I first expected to (about 1000 words longer). A million thanks to my wonderful beta **Nightwrighter** for all her help! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own The Hobbit or any of its characters.

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The sun was low, almost starting to set and give rise to night by the time that I reached the place where I had agreed to meet my contractor, at the 'guild' that I 'belonged' to. My shadow, made awfully long by the nearly-setting sun, moved beside me as I dismounted my pony, Myrtle, and led her to a stable located beside the inn. It had only taken a few days to reach this place after I had done the deed, as I had started travelling immediately after completing it, only stopping to rest when necessary for myself or the pony. Days had gone by quickly, leaving me untouched and unbothered by the pains of travelling, unlike many years ago. The place, the 'inn', was located at a conveniently deserted area of The Shire, quite near the border. It was not easy to spot, as it was located far away from the main road and in between a thick patch of trees. It was in a deplorable state, with rotting wood on the outside and thick, tall grass threatening to grow even in the inside of the building. Upon seeing it, one could only be surprised to find that it was indeed inhabited.

"I see you finished your job!" another hobbit said to me as soon as I was in front of the stables. "It took you less time than the last one" he then added.

I looked at the other man, who was slightly taller than me. I had known him for years; he had introduced me to this world after all. He had thick and curly dark brown hair and very dark eyes, which were now observing me with interest. He was called 'Tom' by everyone, but I doubted that that was even part of his real name. It was what he told everyone to call him anyway, so it hardly mattered if it was his real name or not. He was in charge of many things, although one could usually find him tending the ponies and horses of the people that frequented this place. He had a seemingly innocent appearance, and didn't even seem to be able to fight. This appearance, however, couldn't be further away from the truth. It was he who had trained me for some time in the use of weapons and who often told me about interesting contracts. He was someone to be feared, but wouldn't turn against you unless necessary. He was one of the best after all, and could handle anything. Or so was I told by others.

"I won't be long inside, I just need to get my reward," I said as I handed him the reigns of my pony.

"Of course, as always," he said as he got hold of them and started leading the pony to a place where it would be quick to get her out.

I started to walk away, directing myself now to the inn. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. I was about to leave the rudimentarily built stable, which was in the same state as the building beside it, when I felt his hand on my shoulder, effectively stopping me in my tracks. A chill ran down my spine. I hadn't heard him walking towards me.

"I feel obliged to inform you that earlier someone came looking for you," he said simply.

"Who was it?" I asked aloud, not daring to turn back and face the other hobbit.

"I don't know, his face was covered by a hood. He just said that his 'master' wanted to contract your services. No more," he said.

"Okay, thank you for telling me. Do you know where I might meet this person?" I asked him as I finally turned around to meet his dark eyes.

"He said nothing about how to contact him," he answered.

I nodded and started walking again towards the inn as the sun started to disappear. It was almost night time. I quickly entered it and scanned the place for my contractor. It didn't take long to find him a tall and bulky man dressed with fine clothes that contrasted deeply with the place. I directed myself towards him, making no sound except the soft creaking that my boots caused as I walked on the old wooden floor. My face was covered by the hood of the dark robes that I wore, but that didn't stop me from clearly seeing everything in the room. Spider webs thrived in the corners, as did the dirt and filth that covered the rest of the room. There were a few people inside it, some drinking and some evidently waiting for someone. I could only recognise half of the people that were openly showing their faces, however. I had never spent too much time inside this place, only as much as necessary, but I had spent enough to be able to know some people.

"You are late, you were supposed to be here this morning," a fat human, sitting on his own at a table on a side of the room said, right before taking a big gulp of the low quality ale sold in this place. "I suppose that at least you managed to complete what I ordered," he then added, as drops of the beverage dripped from his thick and neatly kept beard.

"I always guarantee success, I never fail," I just answered stoically, stating an obvious fact. I was one of the best, if not the best, and everyone knew it.

"I know. News travels fast, you know. Everyone knows about how the Prancing Pony got set alight and how it caused half of Bree to burn down to ashes," he said with a laugh as he reached for his pocket. He brought out a bag of coins and tossed it at me. "Here is your reward, as promised," he said.

I caught the bag of coins and quickly put it inside one of my own pockets. "Thank you, sir," I said before turning around to leave the place, leaving the human to his drink. I would survive another month.

I started walking out, wanting to reach the place where my mother and I lived as soon as possible. She had used to be out a great amount of time working when we had first lost everything, but now with her disease she was forced to be bedridden a great part of the day. I was lucky to be able to sustain both of us, barely most of the time, with the jobs that I did. Most people couldn't even afford even that.

Before I knew it I was on top of my pony again, riding towards the place that now was my home. The sun had already set, and the bright moon had now taken its place in the night sky. My thoughts instantly wandered to what I had been told. Someone wanted to contract my services. Who could it be? If Tom hadn't recognised them then this must have been the first time that they contracted someone to do the kind of jobs that I offered to do; and if they had come on behalf of their master they clearly must be someone with a lot of power, which wasn't usual. I frowned, feeling curiosity and a strange feeling inside that told me to be careful. This would surely be a big job, something important. I had done my fair share of important jobs in the past, since despite them carrying more danger and risk they offered a substantial pay that was always welcome. Not that the danger worried me excessively. With planning and the application of all the skills that I had I was like a shadow and almost invisible. Who could this person be? What could they want from me? It would be a shame to have to leave immediately after finishing one job to do another, but the more money that I had the better. Maybe after this job I would be able to afford to move with my mother to a better place, one that had better living conditions. I smiled at this thought. If I managed to achieve this it would be good for my mother. Life would be easier and better.

As I rode as fast as I possibly could I watched out of the corner of my eye for any danger or suspicious activity in the fertile lands of The Shire. It was doubtful that anything would happen, as this was a very calm place where rarely anything happened, but one could never be too careful. Experience had taught me that much, and despite my abilities and my confidence in them I didn't like the prospect of having to fight with someone right now, no matter how dead they would end up being. Trees were quickly left behind, as was the soft and lush green grass that covered all the ground. The dirt paths and land of the forests were muddy, showing that it had rained not so long ago, and visibility was hindered by mist that seemed to have suddenly decided to settle. Nothing could be heard except the sound of an owl hooting and the hoofs of my pony. Everything was calm, as it always was in The Shire. At other places I would have avoided going through the paths that were frequented by common people, but I could allow myself to ride through them this time due to the late hour and the fact that there was obviously no one around.

I left the path and went left, into the forest. The landscape around me soon began changing into an obviously wilder one as I got closer to my 'home'. Everything became muddier, and the mist that had been surrounding me as I had been riding started becoming denser, due to the proximity of the lands that I was riding towards to the river. Trees became even more frequent, and I could spot out of the corner of my eye more wild animals.

"Nearly there," I thought as I looked forwards. I knew this part of the Shire by heart, despite the fact that practically no one could be found in these parts. I had spent so many years walking and riding through these parts, after all.

A few minutes passed, during which I thought of the next thing that I would have to do. Give my mother the money that I had managed to get, ensure that she got new medicines, more food and provisions… With what I had managed to earn she would have enough for several weeks, maybe even a month or two. That was good, very good. I would be able to take another job in the meantime.

"There it is," I thought as soon as the building, no, shack, which I had inhabited ever since my father's death came into view.

The building was entirely made of wood, and part of it went into a hill. It was in an obviously bad condition, as the building was surrounded by a thick mud that never seemed to go away and that was even on the inside in many areas and the wood that composed the building was rotting in many areas. There were obvious holes in the ceiling that had been patched and fixed to the best of my ability, but that still allowed rain and cold to get inside the building. It wasn't a pretty sight, and the bad living conditions were evident. It was nothing like our home at Bag End, the one that we had been forced to leave due to debt, but it was better than nothing.

I dismounted my pony and led her towards what could almost be considered to be a basic 'stable', tying her there. I petted her, thanking her for the effort that she had made travelling so much lately and gave her some of the food for ponies that I kept on the outside, in the garden that my mother kept as best as she could, the only pretty thing that this place had. Once I had done this I entered the building with all my weapons on me.

"Mother, I am back," I said with a tone of voice as light as possible.

I received no answer, but I didn't consider it of any importance. "She must be asleep," I thought, it was quite late after all.

I wandered deeper into one of the three rooms that composed the house as I took off my hood, allowing my head to be fully visible. Inside the state of the building was as bad as on the outside, but more disguised. It almost looked aesthetically pleasing. One of the rooms, the one that I was currently inside, was a kitchen and a dining room at the same time, and other than the normal kitchen utensils and furniture there were a few potted plants, courtesy of my mother. The next room was the room where we both slept, a smaller room that had barely enough space to contain two beds and a few more things. This was where my mother spent most of her time. The other room was even smaller, the one that I used to keep things stored, such as food and some of my weapons in places difficult to find for anyone that didn't know where to find them. These rooms could only be entered through the kitchen. I walked first towards the storage room with the intention of leaving most of my weapons there. I was used to carrying always one or two with me, but right now there was no need to carry my sword, daggers, knives and bow and arrows. Instead I carried a sword and some throwing knives, just in case. I had bought it from a merchant that had said to have found it at an abandoned trolls cave years ago.

I started placing the weapons at the back of the room, beneath the floor tiles and inside a hidden chest. First I left the bow inside, which was then followed by the arrows and some knives. The difference in weight was astounding. I closed my eyes, enjoying the silence and vague sense of security that this place gave me, and deposited my last dagger. However, just as I was about to start taking off some of my armour, I heard the sound of the old wooden floor creaking.

I immediately turned around with my nerves on edge, feeling the adrenaline rapidly flooding my veins and the beating of my heart quickened. Those footsteps weren't those of my mother. I drew my sword, which I had called Sting some time ago and started moving silently through the room, directing myself to the kitchen. The pale light of the moon entered through the windows of the building, illuminating the rooms enough so as to be able to sufficiently distinguish things. Despite my hood not covering my face, my robes were still on, allowing me to practically fuse with the shadows as I walked. As I stepped again into the kitchen my eyes looked around me, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I soon saw it: a tall and bulky figure inside the room with the beds. I got hold of one of my throwing knives with my left hand and threw it with deadly precision at the figure, making the knife sink deep into where the unknown person's heart should be.

The figure dropped to the floor with a loud _thud_, and I quickly moved into the room to inspect it. I got back the knife that I had thrown, avoiding the blood, and took off the hood and cloak that concealed him. I found myself looking at an orc, one with very dark skin and that I was sure I had never seen in my entire life. What was an orc doing here, inside my home?

"I see that your abilities are as good as they say they are," I heard a deep and animalistic voice, suddenly say behind me. I felt the cold edge of a sword being placed against my neck. I took in a sharp breath, surprised. I hadn't detected this person.

I turned around, pointing my sword towards the other person's chest, which although covered by another cloak was obviously bare beneath it. I quickly scanned the other individual. He was obviously another orc, a very large one who almost had to crouch to fit inside the room. I could easily see a fierce expression on his face, one that betrayed a feeling of amusement. He was intimidating, and I felt a chill go down my spine. He seemingly didn't have any other weapons, but fighting him would be tough seeing his strong body structure, height and obvious strength. I would have to move quickly to get an initial advantage and make the job of killing him easier. I looked briefly to my left, skimming the bed of my mother. If this person had dared even to touch my mother… I sighed with relief. She was sleeping, still alive.

"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" I asked as anger and fear filled me. How could he know who I was and where I lived? What would he do with this knowledge?

He grinned. "You are one of the best assassins, Bilbo Baggins. How could I not know you?" he replied.

I frowned, feeling irked by his answer. This explained nothing. "What do you want from me and how did you found this place?" I questioned again as I glared at the stranger, refusing to be intimidated by him. No one knew my name. How could he know? He was as good as dead, no matter what his intentions were. He already knew too much.

"How I have found about you doesn't matter. What matters is that I want to contract your services," he replied as he moved his large sword away from my neck.

My frown slowly disappeared as he told me his intention. Was he the person that I had been told about earlier, then? I withdrew my own weapon, seeing that he didn't have any intention to fight, and stood up. I weighed my possibilities. My mother was fine for now, but refusing whatever he wanted me to do would surely force me to fight. I was sure that I could win a fight against the orc if I planned everything well, however, whatever he wanted to contract me for surely would give me a big reward. No one went to such great lengths so as to contract anyone if it wasn't something important. I could lose nothing from accepting this contract, it would only carry gains for myself.

"Very well, what is the job that you wish me to do?" I said, having completely decided what I would do.

He decided to take off his hood and reveal his appearance as he handed me a worn piece of parchment. I took it whilst looking at him, feeling his cold and cruel eyes staring directly into mine.

I unfolded the piece of parchment and started reading. It immediately became obvious that this was a very important contract, one that would have many effects in the world. It was a long contract which specified almost all the details of what would be required of me, signed by the pale orc, apparently named Azog, at the very bottom and with another blank space right below it.

"The death of the king, prince and rest of the heirs of Erebor along with a key in exchange for a fourteenth part of the dwarven treasure in Erebor…" I muttered as I read.

I smirked. With this I would be able to return to my life before everything had happened. I took one of the quills that was lying on the only table in the room and signed the paper with my real name, seeing as he already knew it.

"I will want proof of their deaths. If you fail there will be dire consequences for you," he growled.

I smirked yet again. "I never fail," I stated. I was one of the best, if not the best, and everyone knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

Here is the new chapter! Sorry it took so long! Again a million thanks to my wonderful beta **Nightwrighter** for all the help that she gave me!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or any of its characters.

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By the time the sun was almost due to rise the strange orc had disappeared, and I was left with the task of getting rid of the body of the other orc that had accompanied him and had quickly perished. Fortunately my mother was still asleep, so I proceeded to drag the creature to another room, as far away from her as possible. I quickly thought about ways in which I could get rid of the creature. I couldn't keep him here or else when the body started rotting the smell would attract attention. There was forest all around, and I didn't want to risk having anyone seeing me with the corpse. That would only cause me to have to answer too many questions that I wouldn't know how to answer. I silently cursed under my breath the bothersome creature. The sun would rise soon; I had no time for anything fancy. The corpse had to disappear now, before my mother woke up, and the blood that had dirtied the floor as well.

I looked out of the window, thinking about what I could possibly do. It was then when I saw it: an empty patch of land in the garden that my mother and I kept. An idea formed in my mind then, making me smile.

"Perfect," I thought.

I took off the robes and armour that I had worn for the assassination and dressed with ordinary hobbit clothes. I didn't want to be seen by my mother in full armour. After placing it in the storage room I returned to where the corpse was, grabbed it and started dragging it outside, leaving a trail of blood behind me. Once I was outside I dropped it on the ground and searched for a shovel. I had to be quick. I grabbed it and immediately started digging as hard as I could. Minutes passed one after another at a surprisingly quick speed, and before I knew it I had dug a hole of a considerable depth and the sun was already out. I cursed the dead orc again under my breath as I lifted him as best as I could and dropped him into the hole, ending with the clanking of metal and a loud 'crack'. I smiled. I was almost done. I started filling the hole again, trying to make the earth seem as if it had never been removed. Once this was done I left the shovel where it had been and went back into the house, soon setting to the task of cleaning the blood off the floor to the best of my ability. It was when I had just finished doing this that my mother woke up.

"Bilbo? Is that you?" she asked me with a deeply tired voice.

"Yes mother," I immediately answered as I stood up and hid as much as possible the few weapons that I had not taken off when I had first entered.

"You are back after so many days! I'm glad that you are back!" she said with a happy tone of voice. "Let me get up to see you, I lose count of time so quickly when you're not here. Who knows how much time could have passed," she then added as she visibly started trying to get up.

I rushed towards her. "Rest mother, you need sleep to get better," I said, feeling worried. I didn't want her to over exercise herself. She needed to sleep as much as possible, along with her medicines. "I am alright mother, can't you see?" I then said as I stroked her hair, trying to calm her. "I just arrived from my job at the human town. I have more money," I proceeded to add, as I showed her the bag of coins that I had been given from my last contract.

She grabbed it, smiling sadly. "What would I do without you, son," she said whilst opening it and counting the coins. "This is a lot of money! You exercise yourself too much Bilbo, you should relax more. All that matters is that we are alive and together. Not all the money in the world could replace you if something were to happen to you," she said as she stroked my brown curls whilst lying on her bed.

I smiled back, feeling suddenly half happy and half sad at the endearing gesture, one that she had always done to soothe me since I was a kid.

"But it is precisely because of that! I want to get our old life back, mother. I promise you that we will be living at Bag End soon. I got another job. This one will take more time, but it will be the final one. Everything will be alright soon," I just said, unable to hide a smile of excitement. It would take long to complete this contract, but it would be worth it.

"What is important is that we are together Bilbo, don't force yourself," she answered.

I smiled gently back as I looked into her eyes. "I will have to go now, cousin Drogo will take care of you while I am gone. Don't worry, I will be back before you know it," I said as I backed off, telling her yet again about Drogo. He was one of the remaining family and friends that still maintained contact with us, and usually him, his wife or both came several times a week to take care of my mother. They would immediately know that I had gone to do a job.

"Be careful," I heard my mother say before I disappeared into the storage room.

I got hold of my dark robes, put on my light armour again and quickly started getting hold of many of my weapons, choosing the ones that I thought that I would need and suit this contract the most. On top of them, I decided to wear normal hobbit clothing. I didn't want to be recognised by anyone. I wanted to leave as soon as possible whilst having everything that I required. I started getting daggers and knives, along with my trusted bow and many arrows. Soon I had all the weapons that I could possibly carry, the only real visible one being my bow and arrows as the rest were hidden beneath my robes. It was then when my attention was drawn to another part of the room, the one where I kept other things that could be useful such as various plants, mushrooms and compounds. Most of the plants that I used for poisoning I grew outside, but I kept some inside, hidden as well as possible.

I grabbed a bag, which I had used many times to transport things during contracts. It looked completely ordinary, but the reason why I had used it so much was the false bottom that I myself had ensured would be there. I opened it and started putting various vials with different liquids, plants and other materials in it, all correctly sealed. Once I was sure that everything that I needed was there I closed it and started putting other things inside the bag, such as other clothing that could be useful for me whilst travelling and some of the other weapons that I had gotten earlier. It didn't take long before everything I required was in there. I got on my feet and started carrying the bag as I made my way out of the house. I had to get out of the Shire.

Before I knew it I was riding on my pony again, directing myself out of the Shire through the quickest possible way. I wondered how I should arrange my travel to Erebor, and I was immediately glad that I had packed a map with me. I dismounted the pony after what had been easily an hour of riding, deciding that stopping to eat some food would do me good. I examined the map, trying to decide what the best way to get there would be. I would be able to make it on my own, but if I wanted to infiltrate the place and fulfill my contract I would need a better way of remaining inside. I could possibly pass as someone that was searching for work. Yes, that would be the best option. It would allow me to remain inside the kingdom all the time that I wanted until my contract was fulfilled. However, if I wanted this, I would have to stage my arrival so that I seemed as less suspicious I could. If I arrived on my own, having come from such a distant place, I would only make myself suspicious because of my skillset. I was perfectly able to get there on my own, but…

'I must join a caravan that is going there' I immediately realised.

I quickly finished my food and put the map away: I knew exactly where to look. I had to return to the human town of Bree and search for one there. I had heard when I was planning how I would complete my last contract that some dwarves wanted to travel to Erebor to offer their services to the new king, Thráin, who was apparently going to be crowned soon. The last king, Thrór, had died, according to what they said, trying to reclaim the mines of Moria. A dark, dangerous and very risky business if you asked me. I smiled as I got on my pony after packing what I had used to make myself breakfast and started riding again. This was perfect. It was everything that I needed.

It didn't take me long to reach Bree, although I wasn't as pressured to get there as quickly as I had the last time that I had come and gone from here. The smoke could be easily seen from far away, as could the great number of humans and hobbits that after losing everything they had to the fire, had decided to go to another place in search for better luck. The town indeed was very damaged, with half of it that had existed days ago now only ashes. I wondered if those dwarves would be in the town. They had probably already gone' now that I thought about it. Who would want to stay in a town in that state, after all? Were they even alive? I hoped that they were, if not my plans would be damaged. I decided to ask both humans and hobbits if they had seen some dwarves. This process didn't take long, as many people were complaining about the dwarves as having been the ones that had brought this tragedy upon them.

"They left the town not so long ago, apparently they are headed towards Erebor. I can't possibly imagine what business you want with such beings that have caused such tragedy to fall upon our town," a man said after I had asked him about a group of dwarves.

I thanked him and rode away, in the direction that he had pointed me. I rode quickly, knowing that I had to reach the company of dwarves as soon as possible. It didn't take as long as I had imagined, as they hadn't advanced that far. It was very easy to recognise them as well, as they didn't exactly go unnoticed or even tried to pass unnoticed.

"They are so different from me," I immediately thought as I realised this. I could pass as hidden from anyone if I wanted to, after all.

Before I knew it I had caught up with them, and they were looking at me with curious and interested faces. Some of the dwarves I could recognise from having seen at the tavern, especially three of them, but then there were some others that I couldn't really recognise, along with some humans. They were looking at me expectantly, their ponies still not having stopped.

"I am Bilbo Underhill," I quickly said, deciding to use a false surname just in case. I certainly didn't want anyone to know my real one. "I would like to join your company to go to Erebor," I said immediately, explaining my 'aims'.

One of them spoke up. "And what is it you wish to find in Erebor?" he asked, questioning my motives.

I frowned. I hadn't really thought about this. "A job," I started saying, stating half a truth. "Everyone has heard of the great riches of the great dwarven kingdom of Erebor, and I find myself in need of money right now," I then added. "I heard yesterday night of your aims to get there, but I was not then able to ask if I could possibly join you" I finished saying.

The dwarves smiled at that, no doubt liking the praise that I had given the place. The all looked at each other, but it didn't take long for them to give me an answer.

"Very well Mr Underhill, you can come with us. Don't make us fall behind though, we wish to reach Erebor as soon as possible, in time for the king's crowning and their celebrations," the one that had spoken first said. "I am Bofur," he then added, gesturing to himself, "and this is my brother Bombur and my cousin Bifur. Welcome to our company," he finished.

I smiled and then listened to the other members of the group as they started to present themselves. The first piece had fallen into its place, now I only had to wait until we reached Erebor so everything could begin.


End file.
